


Crime and Punishment

by TrilliumWoods



Category: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Cowgirl Position, F/M, Femdom, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Penis In Vagina Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrilliumWoods/pseuds/TrilliumWoods
Summary: Lock crosses a line while snooping through Shock's private belongings.  When she finds out about it, she finds a punishment that fits his crime.  Smut-tastic story set in the future when they are above the age of consent.  Small Barrel cameo.





	Crime and Punishment

Lock looked around her room, searching for anything that looked promising to steal or destroy in order to get back at Shock for insulting him so much earlier.  She had left that morning to go to an overnight training camp for the teenage witches of Halloween Town, where she was learning more about spells and potions and broomstick-flying under the tutelage of the older witches.  It was the perfect opportunity for him to have a good long snoop at all her stuff.  _“Stupid Shock.”_ he thought bitterly to himself as he rifled through her dresser drawers.  If he didn’t find anything better, he could always just set all her underwear on fire or run it up the flagpole on the roof.  _“Bossy witch, always telling me what to do.  Why’d she have to be so mean this morning?  I didn’t even do anything, she was being a jerk for no reason.”_ He dropped to his knees and groped around under her bed, then lay flat on the floor so he could see all the way under it.   She was obviously tidier than him and Barrel because there wasn’t anything there.  He was about to get up and check the closet when his keen eyes spotted the edge of a floorboard sticking up at an odd angle slightly above the rest.  This wasn’t entirely suspicious as the whole house was old, creaky and off-balance with plenty of ill-fitting parts, but something about it piqued his interest.  He knew that HE would stash secret things under his floorboards - or at least he would have, if he had thought of it.  

He scooted closer and gently pried it the rest of the way up and stuck his hand inside to feel around - slightly risky, as she may have cast a spell or put a trap in there - but he did it anyway.  He’d never been very good at thinking things through thoroughly and taking risks was just second nature to him.  Fortunately there wasn’t a trap, just a small wooden box that he removed from its hiding place and brought out to sit on the floor in front of him.  _“Jackpot.”_   he smiled to himself.  The box was heavily padlocked, so there HAD to be something good in there.  He almost pitied her for thinking she could come up with any lock that he couldn’t pick, and he reached into his pocket for his handy lock pick set that he usually carried with him, just in case.  He got to work - it was a tricky one, but eventually it opened with a satisfying ’click’.  He opened the box slowly with his face tilted slightly away from it, because there was still time for it to be something that could cause him bodily harm.  When nothing jumped out at him he took a closer look inside - it was a diary.  Double jackpot!  He’d been searching for a way to get back at her and he couldn’t have found anything better to do that with than a diary full of potentially embarrassing dirt.  It was also locked and he was about to begin picking it too, when something else caught his eye: a white, sort of oblong object half hidden under the diary.  He looked closer and his eyes widened when he figured out what it was: it was unquestionably an artificial phallus.  

He sat there staring at it in stunned silence for a moment, the wheels in his head turning frantically as he realized that there was only one thing she could need such an item for.  He’d been jerking himself off for years but it had never occurred to him that girls - let alone Shock - would get themselves off, too.  Why would he?  He didn’t want to think about Shock doing that.  Did he?  But unbidden, lurid images of Shock touching herself with that fake dick flashed through his mind and he was instantly rock hard.  Curiosity got the better of him and he tentatively touched it with one finger, as if it would burn him, then he picked it up and examined it.  It was only slightly realistic, kind of a stylized representation with a slight curve and a ridged head.  He had no idea what it was made out of, but it was firm and the texture was smooth and soft.  It was about the same size as himself when he was fully erect and he felt relieved to know that she didn’t have unrealistic expectations of male anatomy.  _“WHY?”_   he thought, somewhat angrily.  Why should Shock’s sexual preferences matter to him?  What did he care what sort of penis she liked?  This was just stupid old Shock, his bossy, bratty best friend, he scolded himself, but he couldn’t stop imagining her rubbing this thing between her legs, slipping it inside of her…. _“Holy shit.”_   His face burned and his dick pushed uncomfortably against his pants.  Before he could even think or stop himself he instinctively brought it up to his nose and sniffed it - for some awful reason he couldn’t explain, he’d hoped that he could smell her on it but apparently she was as hygienic as she was tidy because all he smelled was the lingering scent of cleaning potion.  It was the exact same shade of white as his own skin and for one wild second he wondered if she had chosen that color with him in mind.  _“Holy fuck,”_ he was incredibly turned on and utterly confused.  He never really thought about anyone in particular when he touched himself, just some faceless, sexy, succubi, but mostly he just did it because it felt good.  He didn’t even have a thing for witches, right?  Especially not Shock.  _“She’s not even that pretty.”_ he told himself, her nose was too big and her teeth were too gappy.  So why did the idea of her buying a sex toy with him in mind make him so incredibly horny?  God, what if she thought about him when she used it?  His eyes flicked over to the diary - there was one way to possibly find out.  He put the fake cock back down and picked up the diary and started work on opening it.  For the first time in his life he felt a little prickle of what he thought might be guilt.  Normally none of them had much respect for one another’s privacy and this sort of thing was a frequent occurrence among all of them…. but THIS was way beyond the norm and he couldn’t help but feel like he was crossing a line somehow.  But he was a devil, after all, and his need to know who - if anyone - she masturbated to overpowered his tiny, weak, underdeveloped conscience and the lock opened with a small click.  Breathing hard, he flipped through the pages, scanning quickly for anything of a sexual nature as well as keeping an eye out for his own name.  Every time he saw his name he stopped to read the context - usually she was recounting a prank they’d pulled or an adventure they’d had, and often she was calling him names and ranting about whatever he’d done that had made her angry.  Nothing especially important or surprising and for some reason he started to feel disappointed, but then saw his name next to the word “cute” and his breath caught.  

_“Stupid Lock, he pisses me off so much.  Why does he have to be so cute?  I must be being punished for something because I can’t stop thinking about him and his dumb, cute face.  Ugh.”_  

He couldn’t believe it.  While “cute” wasn’t exactly the word he would have chosen to have a woman use to describe him, it was a lot better than he was expecting from her and his heart leapt.  She thought he was cute.  That he was attractive despite apparently pissing her off on a regular basis.  He read on, desperate for more, and he soon found it several entries later:  

_“What is wrong with me?  Why can’t I stop thinking about Lock like this?  I keep dreaming about that idiot and even when I’m awake I can’t stop thinking about kissing him or doing even more.  I keep looking at his tail, it’s so sexy.  Well, all of him is sexy, but his tail especially.  I can’t even believe I’m writing this down.  If anyone ever saw it I would kill them and then kill myself.  But I can’t help it, I just want him so badly and it’s driving me crazy.”_  

He was pretty sure his heart stopped for a second and he read the sentences over and over again, hardly believing what he was seeing.  She dreamt about him.  She thought about kissing him, about doing even MORE with him.  She thought him and his tail were sexy.  She WANTED him.  He looked back at the fake penis and once again thought about her using it while thinking about him.  She had to be doing that, right?  How could she NOT be, considering what she had written in her diary?  His cock was throbbing and if he didn’t do something soon he was going to come in his pants without even touching himself.  He vaguely thought that he should go to his room but he couldn’t wait that long.  He put the diary down and looked around frantically for something to keep him from making a mess all over his clothes or her floor, but he didn’t see any tissues or anything else disposable.  Finally, humiliatingly, he settled for pulling off one of his own socks and placing it on his thigh before unzipping his pants and freeing his aching dick.  He furiously jerked off, picturing her plunging that toy deep inside of herself while moaning his name, and then he thought about taking it’s place himself and giving her what she apparently wanted…. what he apparently wanted, too.  He was already so far gone that it only took a few rough strokes before he felt his balls tightening, felt the pulse deep in his groin that signaled his impending release.  _“Oh fuck, Shock…”_ he groaned, throwing his head back against the side of her bed and he grabbed his nearby sock and got it positioned over the head of his penis just in time for his climax.  He arched off the floor as he powerfully thrust into his own hand and shot load after load into that stupid sock that - in his head - was her tight, wet pussy.  He bit down on his lower lip to keep from crying out too loudly in case Barrel was home and tasted his own blood as his sharp teeth pierced his skin.  Finally he was spent and he slumped back onto the floor against her bed, panting hard and feeling completely dazed.  What the hell had just happened?  It didn’t make any sense, he’d just had the most intense orgasm of his life while fantasizing about Shock.  He was confused and embarrassed.   When his breathing was a little more under control he tucked himself back into his underwear and refastened his pants, then stared unseeing up at the ceiling for several long moments before he remembered that he hadn’t finished skimming through her diary yet.  He picked it back up with the hand he HADN’T just beat off with and kept reading until he reached the last entry:  

_“I don’t know what to do.  I think I’m in love with him and there’s no way he loves me back.  This is the worst day of my life.  Hopefully I can get through camp tomorrow and the next day without screaming his name in my sleep while having more of those crazy sex dreams - that would be so humiliating I wouldn’t even have to kill myself, I’d just die on the spot.  Thank god I’ll at least be away from him for two days and I can try to get my head on straight.  Maybe I can find an anti-love-potion recipe and put myself out of my misery.”_  

Lock sat there totally stunned, staring at that last entry.  She had just written this yesterday before leaving for witch camp this morning.  Is that why she’d been so short and snippy with him, because she thought he didn’t love her back?  She was his best friend… but she was a bossy, rude know-it-all and was always telling him what to do, which he hated.  But on the other hand, she’d always looked out for him, too.  He never admitted it out loud, but he knew she was the smartest of the three of them.  Often she came up with the cleverest plans to make his ideas for mischief and mayhem come to fruition - he almost always had the inspiration but she usually worked out the details - they made a great team that way. She’d been the first one of them to learn how to read and he remembered her reading scary stories to him and Barrel when they were little, and she had helped him learn how to read, too.  She did most of the cooking because she was the only one of them who seemed capable of making anything remotely edible - he supposed that came along with being a witch - and more than a few times her quick thinking had saved him from trouble.  And they always had fun together, laughing and plotting, pulling pranks, teasing, wrestling and just hanging out.  He scanned around the room, not knowing what he was looking for exactly, but just looking for something - anything - to help him make sense of it all.  He saw a framed photograph of the three of them on her dresser and he slowly stood and walked over on slightly shaky legs to take a look at it, clutching his defiled sock in one hand.

They looked happy, very happy, their arms draped around each others shoulders and grinning evilly into the camera, him and Barrel on either side of her.  He looked closer at her face.  Her eyes really were a beautiful, gleaming black and he could practically see her wickedly scheming behind them even in the photo.  He liked her wild hair - it was such a contrast to his own, which he always tried to keep meticulously in place.  And she really had great skin, he thought, impossibly smooth and an appealingly pale, sickly green.  She was tall, her body slim but strong, with long limbs and delicate hands.  He shifted uncomfortably.  Maybe she actually WAS kind of pretty.  He’d certainly enjoyed his fantasy about her just a few moments ago.  He stood there for quite some time, thinking hard, analyzing every aspect of their relationship, especially recently.  It occurred to him that since she’d always been the smartest, maybe she was seeing something between them that he was missing.  If she loved him, she had probably thought a lot about it and probably had good reasons to love him…. and maybe he should consider those reasons, too.  

After awhile he decided that he’d been in her room rather a long time and that he should probably leave before Barrel noticed and started asking questions.  He returned the diary and substitute dick - a substitute for HIM, he thought with another little thrill - to their box and tried to put everything back exactly as he found it.  If she discovered what he’d done she would certainly murder him, regardless of whether or not she loved him.  He spent the rest of the day in contemplative silence, rehashing this new information and the emotions they stirred in him over and over in his head.  He wasn’t entirely sure that he even knew what love was.  As a devil he knew all about hedonism and he was by nature a somewhat selfish being, but he thought that if he could love then he would certainly love Shock and Barrel…. except unlike with Shock, he didn’t suddenly want to have sex with Barrel - and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.  He stayed up late into the night, tossing and turning in bed, eventually falling into a fitful sleep when he was finally too exhausted to think anymore.  For the first time, he didn’t dream of an anonymous succubus coming to pleasure him in the night but rather of Shock, of her wild hair and gleaming black eyes, her clever plans and delightful maliciousness, of her strong, slender thighs wrapped around his hips and her nails dragging down his back as he moved inside of her till they both reached the heights of pleasure and release….      

He drifted back into consciousness just as that dream release was ending and he groggily realized that he’d been humping the bed in his sleep - and that he’d just ejaculated all over the sheets.  He groaned.  Terrific, now he had to wash his sheets along with his sock.  He hated doing laundry.  He rolled out of bed and reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes but froze with his hands in front of his face: both of them were bright, almost neon green.  He stared at them in horror and hoped he was still dreaming… but he was wide awake and there they were.  It only took him a few seconds to realize what had happened: Shock had indeed placed a hex on the diary or the box or both - the result just wasn’t instantaneous and now he was belatedly suffering the consequences of his snooping.  He felt sick to his stomach - how was he going to fix this without her finding out what he’d done?  All of the witches were gone at their training camp and he didn’t know who else could help him.  Dr. Finkelstein could fix a lot of things but this kind of magic was not one of them.  Maybe Sally could help? He knew she was good with herbs and things like that, perhaps she could work out an antidote.  Maybe when the witches returned later that day he could manage to avoid Shock until he could seek out one of the older witches and beg them to fix him and keep it a secret.  Shit, he was really in trouble now.  He should have known better, that Shock was too smart and too careful to leave such private items protected only by flimsy locks, especially with the likes of him and Barrel around.  Her magic powers were getting stronger and stronger every year, and he knew she was capable of a curse like this.  _“I am such an idiot.”_ he thought miserably to himself, then launched into his standard post-mischief-making-cover-up-protocol.  First order of business: hide the evidence.  He dressed himself quickly and then rummaged around in his closet until he found his pair of winter gloves.  It was the middle of summer, but there was nothing else he could do and he’d rather endure odd looks because of the gloves than his neon green hands.  Second order of business: get some food in his stomach so he could then spend the rest of the day in hiding until he could find a way to reverse the spell.  He went downstairs and into the kitchen where he found Barrel already at the table eating an enormous bowl of Beetle-Crunch cereal with marshmallows.  Lock tried to act normally, but unfortunately for him Barrel was much more observant than anyone ever gave him credit for.

“What’s with the gloves?” he asked through a mouthful of cereal.

“None of your business, nosy!” Lock snapped at him, and Barrel just looked at him like he was crazy before shrugging and going back to his breakfast.  

“Ok, whatever, weirdo.  You should know you look stupid, though.”  

Lock glared at him, but didn’t say anything.  He was sweating with nerves as he hastily poured himself a bowl of cereal, still trying to form a plan for taking care of his situation before Shock returned from training.  He had barely swallowed the first few bites when all of a sudden, Shock herself was standing in the kitchen doorway.  

“Hey morons,” she said cheerfully, dropping her overnight bag onto the floor, and Lock was momentarily paralyzed with horror.  What was she doing home already?  She wasn’t supposed to be back until this evening!  His non-existent plan was rapidly going to shit before his very eyes and he dropped his spoon and hurriedly shoved his hands under the table into his lap.

“Hey Shock!” Barrel replied happily.  “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, there was a bit of an incident and they sent us all home.  You’ll never believe what…” but she paused mid-sentence, eyes narrowing on Lock.  “Are you wearing gloves?”

Fuck.  She’d obviously seen his hands before he could hide them under the table, and sometimes he wondered if she wasn’t a little bit psychic as well as magic because she always seemed to know when he’d gotten up to something.  He should have just run her underwear up the flag pole and been done with his petty revenge.  He kind of half-shrugged, half-nodded, trying to look nonchalant.  She squinted suspiciously at him.  “Why?  It’s like, 80 degrees in here.”

He couldn’t think of a convincing lie so he resorted to belligerence.  “Maybe I just feel like wearing gloves, ok?  What are you, my mother?  What’s it to you anyway?”  His words came out overly aggressive but he was panicking and didn’t know what else to do.  He hoped that if he came across as angrier than she was that she’d back down, but it soon became clear he wasn’t going to be so lucky.

“What’s wrong with your hands?” her voice was getting low and deadly.  Barrel had stopped mid-chew to observe the building conflict - he had no idea what was going on or why Lock’s bad fashion choices were worth this much questioning, but watching Lock and Shock fight was always entertaining.

“Nothing!” Lock insisted, and he finally thought up a lie: “I burned myself with some fireworks, that’s all!”  But it was too late.  If that had been true he would have just said so to begin with instead of his defensive deflecting and now the damage was done.

“Barrel, get out of here.”  Shock said quietly.  

“What?  Why?  What’d I do?”

“Just get out.” she repeated.

“No way, I’m eating my breakfast.  I was here first.” Barrel pouted.  

“GET OUT OF HERE NOW, BARREL!”  She shouted without even looking at him, her eyes still boring into Lock’s.  “AND IF I CATCH YOU EAVESDROPPING I’LL KILL YOU AND NO ONE WILL EVER FIND YOUR BODY.”

“Geez, alright already, cranky….” Barrel muttered as he slid off of his chair and took his bowl of cereal with him out of the room, swearing under his breath.  

When he was gone Shock advanced towards Lock, looking murderous, but there was a quiver in her voice as she whispered, “Did you look in that box under my bed?”  He didn’t look at her or say anything and it felt like the room was closing in on him as she got closer and closer.  “Did you READ it?!” her voice wavered harder.  “DID YOU?!?!”  She sounded slightly hysterical now.  He was trying to formulate his escape but she was too quick for him and she snatched one of the gloves off of his hand.  Her eyes widened, her fears confirmed as she took in the bright green of his skin.  He chanced a look up at her face and prepared himself for death, but she didn’t look angry anymore - she just looked mortified, like she was about to cry - which was way worse than anger.  She was more upset than he’d ever seen her and Lock was surprised to find that he didn’t WANT her to be upset.  Not even after all the mean things she’d said to him the other day, not even though the whole point of him looking in her diary was to upset her for the purpose of his revenge.  He didn’t want her to be upset even though her stupid security spell had turned his hands green, and not even if she was about to strangle or hex him to death right here.  And if that wasn’t the definition of love, then he didn’t know what was.  

He made up his mind and decided to take the biggest risk he’d ever chanced in his whole life.  He took a deep breath and sheepishly said, “I’m sorry I looked in that box and read your diary.  I just wanted to get back at you for being so mean to me that morning.”  She didn’t say anything and he glanced up again to see her looking determinedly at the wall behind him, eyes brimming with tears and he could practically feel the waves of humiliation radiating off of her.  He felt awful and hoped that what he was about to say would make her forgive him.  “But I… I liked what I found.  And what I read.  I liked it a lot.”  She closed her eyes slowly and a few tears escaped and ran down her cheeks.  She probably didn’t believe him, probably thought he was mocking her, and he couldn’t blame her for thinking it.  How could he make her understand he was telling the truth?  Throwing caution to the wind, he stood up from his chair, pulled her to him and kissed her as passionately as he knew how.  She went stiff in his arms but he didn’t let go, trying to apologize with his touch, trying to make her understand his sincerity.  After a moment - despite his best efforts - she still hadn’t returned his kiss so he moved his lips to her ear, still holding her close.  He was going to have to make himself even more vulnerable to try and match how vulnerable she must be feeling right at that moment.   “Shock…” he murmured, his voice shaking a bit.  He then noticed that in fact his entire body was trembling, as was hers.  “I’m not just saying this to get out of trouble, I mean it, I really am sorry… and I really did like what I read in your diary.  It was the best thing I’ve ever read.  Please believe me.”  He thought he felt her relax infinitesimally so he kept going.  “And… I think I love you, too.  And finding out you thought those things about me and finding your…” he didn’t know what to call the fake dick that didn’t sound stupid to him, so he skipped ahead. “Fuck, I’ve never been so turned on in my whole life, it almost killed me.”  He began to harden just from saying those words and from the memory of it so he pushed his hips closer against her, hoping she could feel it.  Surely she had to know that he couldn’t fake THAT.  She gave a tiny gasp and tensed up even more, but then started to relax against him.  That was a good sign so he doubled-down on his confession: “I had the best orgasm of my life right there in your room because I couldn’t wait, touching myself and thinking about you.” She shivered a little but didn’t pull away in disgust so he continued: “So I guess I’m actually not all that sorry I found that box under your bed, because I didn’t understand until then how I really felt about you….” he tried to inject a little humor: “…and I didn’t know I could come that hard and I want to do it some more.”  He leaned back and she finally looked at him.  He tried to deliver his most charming ‘handsome devil’ smile and ran his tongue along his lip where he had bit down on it the other day, then added hopefully:  “Though I hope I don’t have to do it by myself from now on.”  He decided to sweeten the deal by bringing his tail around to rub along the side of her leg, hoping she still thought it was sexy after all of this.  

He seemed to have gotten through to her because her tears were already drying and the corner of her mouth turned up into a little smile.  “I’m still mad at you, you prick.”

Relief flooded through him and he grinned at her.  “That’s fair.”  

She wrapped her fist around his tail and began stroking it like it was a different, more intimate part of his anatomy and he sucked in a little breath.  Nobody had ever touched his tail like that before and he was startled by how good it felt.  He wondered how long she’d been wanting to do that as her smile turned wicked and she murmured,  “You’re going to have to be punished.”   Oooh, that sounded promising.  He leaned in to try and kiss her again but she stopped him.  “I’m going to go take a shower.  When I get out, you’d better be in my room if you know what’s good for you.”  She paused and then added: “On top of my bed this time, not under it.”  She smirked and brushed the very tip of his tail lightly with her fingertips one last time before turning away, picking up her bag and leaving him in the kitchen.

He stood there stupidly for a moment before rushing to his bedroom.  He passed by Barrel, who was laying on his back on the floor of the living room staring at the ceiling with a pair of headphones on, music blaring so loudly that Lock could almost tell what he was listening to.  Apparently Barrel had taken Shock’s threat to heart and was trying to make it as obvious as possible that he hadn’t been listening in on their conversation.  When Lock reached his room he fidgeted around for a bit, unsure of what to do with the time until Shock was out of the shower before he decided that the best course of action would be to make himself as physically appealing as possible.  He re-applied his deodorant and scrounged around his dresser until he found a piece of a broken mirror and used it to try and straighten up his hair and check his teeth for any lingering cereal chunks.  He wished he could brush his teeth, use some mouthwash or even take a quick shower himself, but he couldn’t while Shock was in the bathroom so instead he went to the kitchen to rinse his mouth out with water - it was better than nothing.    

When Lock hurried by for the second time, Barrel removed his headphones and asked, “What the hell was that all about?  What’s going on?”  

Lock slowed down just enough to grin at him.  “I’m about to get lucky.” he boasted.

Barrel’s jaw dropped and his brow furrowed.  “With SHOCK?  Gross!”

Lock snickered - at least he knew he didn’t have competition for Shock’s sexual attention.  “Yup. I’d keep those headphones on if I were you.”  

“Oh my god…” Barrel muttered in disgust, then replaced his headphones and cranked the volume up even louder.

Lock entered Shock’s bedroom, sat on the edge of her bed and listened to the water running through the pipes from the shower.  He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.  Should he get naked?  Should he lay down on the bed and try to make a sexy pose?  Should he try to hide the beginning-of-a-hard-on he was sporting?  Or should he sit in a way that showed it off?  He looked at his hands - still obnoxiously green - and remembered that he was supposed to be concerned about them, but more pressing matters were at hand and he figured if Shock wasn’t urgently worried about them than there was no reason he should be.  He was confident she could reverse the spell.  After what felt like an eternity the water finally shut off and Lock sat up straight on the edge of the bed and watched the door for her return, but another decade seemed to pass before she finally appeared.  By then his erection had waned, which was probably a good thing because she entered the room wearing just her short, light purple summer dress, the fabric so thin he could just barely see the darker fabric of her panties and the silhouette of her body through it.  Yes, he decided, she was definitely pretty.  

“Don’t get up.” she commanded, and he stayed put.  He normally bristled at being told what to do but in this context it was kind of exciting.  “You really think you might love me?” she asked and he nodded.  “And you really had the best orgasm of your life in here while thinking about me?”  He nodded again, more vigorously.  “And you’re really, truly sorry for being a nosy, prying asshole and going through my stuff?”

“Yes.”

Her expression turned wicked and she moved towards the bed.  “Prove it.”  He was about to tackle her and try to fuck her senseless but once again she stopped him.  “Get off the bed and stand over there.”  He looked at her quizzically but she didn’t budge so he did as she said, starting to get a little frustrated.  What was going on?  What was she playing at?  She sat at the head of the bed and tucked her legs underneath her, then looked him up and down for a moment and said, “Get naked.”  Now they were getting somewhere!  He happily obliged, yanking off his shirt and pants and tossing them carelessly aside, then toeing off his socks.  He hesitated only for a moment and then pulled off his underwear to stand completely nude in front of her, half hard again.  She took her time letting her eyes roam all over his body with a naughty smile on her face and his confidence started to waver a bit, the urge to try and cover himself with his stupid green hands growing stronger.  Finally she said with a tone of approval, “Very nice.  Now turn around.”  The slight breathiness of her voice bolstered his confidence and he turned around slowly - she must be desperate for a view of his butt and his tail that she found so sexy, he thought.  He smirked to himself and swished his tail teasingly from side to side a few times.  “Oh, it’s like a Siamese cat,” she said, and he was confused until she added, “I’ve always wondered what the transition of your red-tail-to-white-body looked like.”  He looked over his shoulder and saw that she had one hand cupping herself between her legs and her nipples were erect, poking against the flimsy fabric of her dress.  Oh yeah, she liked what she saw and his ego was back full-force.  “Now, come over here and lay down on the bed, on your back.”  Things were finally going his way and he practically jumped to do as she said but unfortunately for him she got off the bed to rummage around in a trunk beneath the window, so he took the opportunity to admire the curve of her backside under her dress and her long, bare legs.  When she turned back to him she was holding a long rope and his eyebrows just about raised into his hairline.  That was definitely not what he had been expecting!  She cocked an eyebrow at his trepidatious expression and said, “You’re supposed to be being punished, remember?” He knew that arguing would get him nowhere so he let her pick up each of his wrists and tie them to the bedposts.  He pulled against them when she was done, but she was excellent at tying knots and the restraints held firm.  Then she swung one leg over him to sit astride his stomach, the fabric of her dress just barely brushing against the top side of his rapidly growing erection.  

He caught a flash of her black panties as she lifted up her leg and he said somewhat breathlessly, “I almost set all your underwear on fire today instead of looking under your bed. To get back at you.” 

“Hmm…” she murmured,  “I’m actually glad you didn’t, otherwise we wouldn’t be here now.”

“Good point.” he grinned, but his smile quickly faltered when she began to rub herself against his stomach and abdomen, splaying her palms across his chest to steady herself.   

“Mmmm…” she hummed again and closed her eyes, continuing to grind on him.  “What part of my diary did you like the most?”

“The part where you said you thought I was sexy… that my tail was sexy.  That you wanted me.”

“And what did you like about my little toy?” she rode him a little bit harder, a little bit faster, and he could feel the damp heat radiating from her crotch against his stomach even through her underwear.

“Uh…” he was rapidly losing the ability to form sentences. “That it kinda looked like me… that maybe you thought about me when you used it.”

“Oh,” she gasped softly.  “Yes.  For months.”  He knew this already, thanks to the dates in the diary entries, but hearing her confess it out loud really brought it home and he let out a barely audible whimper.  She finally leaned forward to kiss him, still grinding her pelvis along his and brushing her breasts against him, her hard nipples grazing his chest.  She tasted and smelled amazing and he strained upwards to try and take control of the kiss but it was futile - she’d done too good a job of tying him down.  When they were both out of oxygen she removed her tongue from his mouth with one last lick against his teeth, careful to avoid their sharp points. She sat back up and brought one hand between her thighs to increase the stimulation and watching her was driving him crazy.  If only she would scoot backwards a little bit he could rub his cock against her ass but she remained just out of reach, smirking at his not-very-subtle attempts to move himself closer to her.  So this was his punishment, he thought, as she swung her leg back so she was no longer straddling him… she was going to tease him for as long as possible.  She removed her panties from under her dress and he got only the briefest glimpse of the dark curls between her legs before the dress was back down and blocking his view.  

“I want to see you,” he begged, but she ignored him and mounted him again, slipping her hand under her dress to continue stroking herself but still not touching him where he wanted her to the most.   Now her naked vulva was sliding along his belly as she moved and he could feel her slickness against his skin, could smell the heady scent of her sex.  The frustration was unbearable and he bucked up towards her, but she only smiled evilly as she looked down at him.  

“What were you thinking about while you were jerking off in my room?”

“About being inside you.” he replied, praying to the Halloween gods that she would take pity on him.  

“I see…” she murmured.  “Like this?”  She hiked up her dress again and shifted so that she was perched over his bobbing erection.

“Ohhh, fuck… yeah…” he groaned as she finally, FINALLY took him in hand to rub the sensitive head of his penis through her soft, slick folds before spreading them with her fingers and lowering herself onto him so agonizingly slowly that he thought he would die.  She was panting slightly, eyes closed in concentration as she gradually took him in, millimeter by millimeter.  He tried to thrust up into her but she pushed down on his hip with her now free hand and raised up on her knees just enough to thwart his attempt to bury himself deep inside.  Her muscles clenched and relaxed as they adjusted to him and he couldn’t stop the embarrassing little whining noises escaping his mouth - she was like a hot, wet vise around his cock and it was better than anything he had ever felt or even imagined.

“Oooooh, shit, yesssss…” she moaned when she sheathed him completely and she once again dropped the front of her dress to cover where they were joined.  Lock wished that he could see where their bodies met, but on the other hand there was something incredibly hot about her riding him with her clothes on while he was completely naked beneath her.  He supposed this was another part of his punishment, denying him full sight of her body.  She put one hand beneath her dress again and began to tilt her pelvis back and forth while her fingers moved quickly against her clit.  “The real thing…. is so… much… better…” she gasped, rocking harder, wild hair falling over her shoulders as she hunched over him.  She seemed to be in utter ecstasy but Lock was desperate for more stimulation and he tried again to thrust up into her, but she lifted up to prevent him like she did before.  

“Shock…” he whimpered, not caring how pathetic he sounded, “Harder…” But once again she ignored him and within seconds she was coming, squeezing her thighs around his hips, her vaginal muscles fluttering around his cock as she ground against his pubic bone in short, quick little motions, swearing and gasping his name.  He was almost there himself, just on the verge of tumbling over into his own climax when she suddenly went still, placing her hands back on his chest and bowing her head while she tried to catch her breath.  He squirmed beneath her, trying to keep building towards release when she cruelly raised herself up and he slid out of her.  Horrified, he stared up at her and croaked, “What…?!”

She opened her eyes and gave him an absolutely nefarious smirk.  “Yes, the real thing is DEFINITELY better.” She sounded completely satisfied and looked extremely amused by his suffering.  She got off of him and walked to her dresser.  He gaped in disbelief as she grabbed a handkerchief to clean between her legs, then put on a new pair of panties and slid on a pair of leggings under her dress before finally returning to the bed to begin untying him.  

“You have got to be kidding.” he moaned.  His dick was aching and he almost wanted to cry with frustration. 

“That was fun!” she said cheerfully, but he heard the sadistic undercurrent in her tone.  “I’ve been fantasizing about that for a long time, and you didn’t disappoint.”  The ropes fell away from his wrists and he stared up at her, still unable to believe that she would leave him unsatisfied.  She looked down at him and put her hands on her hips.  “I have unpacking to do, so get out of here.”  Too stunned to argue he got off of the bed and she immediately put her hands on his back and steered him towards the door.  Finally he came to his senses and started to feel angry.  He looked over his shoulder at her and demanded:

“What about me?” He gestured to his neglected crotch.

“Take care of it yourself, it sounds like you’ve had some good practice lately.”  She cackled and pushed him out the door, then tossed his clothes after him.  “See you downstairs!”

He stood there in the hallway and heard the click of her door locking.  He’d accepted that he deserved some sort of punishment for what he’d done, but in his opinion this was WAY over the line.  When it became clear that she wasn’t joking and she wasn’t going to let him back in he picked up his clothes and hurried to his room.  He didn’t need Barrel to find him standing naked outside of her door.  His erection was waning fast and his balls hurt, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish getting himself off so he just got dressed and went downstairs, plotting his revenge… although revenge is what had gotten him into this situation in the first place, he thought grumpily.  

Barrel was nowhere to be found and Lock wondered if he’d actually left the house to avoid any chance of being exposed to their shenanigans.  Shock was already in the kitchen fixing herself a cup of tea and humming happily to herself.  “I think that’s the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.” he said darkly, taking a seat at the table in front of his now completely soggy cereal.

“Good, then we’re even.” she replied, but gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before sitting across from him to drink her tea.  “So, how long have your hands been green?” she snickered.

He shrugged.  “I don’t know, it happened sometime during the night.  I woke up like this.”

She furrowed her brow.  “It didn’t happen right away?  Clearly I made a mistake with the spell.  It was SUPPOSED to be painful and turn the intruders hands bright green as soon as they touched the box, but I guess better late than never.”

“You can fix it though, right?” he asked anxiously.  It didn’t hurt, but he really didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with bright green hands.  Paired with his red hair, it made him look more like he belonged in that ridiculous Christmas Town instead of Halloween Town.  Well, maybe not quite… but it still wasn’t a good look.

“Yeah, I think so.  But it might be safer to ask Helgamine to do it instead.”  She gave him a teasing kind of smirk.  “Don’t want your hands to fall off before you can put them to good use for once.”

“I COULD have put my hands to good use just now, if you had let me.” he grumbled, poking his spoon around the Beetle-Crunch sludge in his bowl.

She laughed and took a sip of tea then said, “That was just payback.  Don’t worry, we’ll play fair from now on.  As soon as we get your hands fixed, you can show me what YOU’VE been thinking about.  Assuming you’re up for it.”

“Oh believe me, I am up for it.  In every possible way.” His mood began to improve at the prospect of a more satisfactory round two.

“Good.  I hope you don’t have plans for the next few days.”  she gave him an evil little wink and slid one of her bare feet beneath the table and under his pant leg to run along his ankle.  That coaxed a broad smile out of him.  Next few DAYS?  That settled it: he really did love her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Lock! But he really did have it coming, no pun intended. ;)


End file.
